


Not Scary At All

by IAmTheUnsub



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gay Male Character, Gen, M/M, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Not A Fix-It, Oneshot, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie has a boyfriend, The boyfriend is a prick, and also technically Pennywise in this?, does that make this Richie/Pennywise?!, its 5am and i wrote this in 20 minutes, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 12:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheUnsub/pseuds/IAmTheUnsub
Summary: In which Richie opens the Scary door and has more in common with Bev than we thought."Eddie looks back towards the door to see a man standing there. Tall, broad and well-groomed, wearing an expensive looking suit. His face was the picture of cold fury, directed entirely at Richie. Eddie is shocked to see the Trashmouth shaking and silent, eyes directed at the ground. The man slams his fist into the door-frame and Richie jumps harshly, hands flinching up to cover his face for a second."





	Not Scary At All

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for domestic abuse.  
Wrote this in 20 minutes at 5am because I had writers block on a main project so enjoy whatever the fuck this is.  
there will 100% be typos, please let me know.

“oh, not this bullshit again!”, Richie groans, rubbing a hand over his face. 

Eddie turns to look at Richie in bewilderment, 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he asks.  
Richie gestures to the three wooden doors in front of them, completely out of place in the stone cavern, labelled ‘Very Scary’, ‘Scary’ and ‘Not Scary at All’. Eddie instinctively reaches towards the ‘Not Scary at All’ door, but Richie’s hand shoots out to take hold of his wrist and halt the movement. 

“Hang on. Let’s think about this”, he says. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

“What is there to think about? Do you want to go through the fucking scary door? Be my fucking guest, moron”, Eddie hisses. 

“Well, there’s no need for that sort of language, young man” Richie blusters back at him. 

“Really? You’re really doing the British Guy right now?”, Eddie deadpans.

“Oh bite me! All I’m saying is I’ve seen this shit before.”

“Where? Where the fuck could you have possibly seen three magical doors before?”, Eddie scoffs.

“Neibolt.”, Richie replies, eyes flicking towards Eddie’s once-broken arm.

“…oh. Fuck”, Eddie rubs the arm, feeling a phantom ache for the first time in years. He hadn’t even remembered he’d ever broken that arm until now.

“Yep.” 

“And we shouldn’t use the not scary door because?...”

“Because it’s a fucking lie is why. I picked that shit last time and saw half of Betty Ripsom hanging from the roof”, Richie shuddered at the memory. 

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Yup. Some sort of reverse psychology shit.”

“So we pick the very scary door then?”, Eddie reaches for that door, only to be stopped again by Richie.

“Wait! What if it’s a double reverse? And whatever’s behind there is pants-shittingly awful.”  
Eddie steps back from the doors, considering them all equally. 

“Aren’t you a risk assessor? This is like, your thing right?” Richie asks. Eddie turns to him, unamused.

“Well, I’ve never had to take the psychology of a fucking murderous clown into account before.”, he replies. Richie looks thoughtful for a second.

“Also, who decides what’s scary? Like, my agent is terrified of commitment. Are we going to open that door and see her boyfriend in a wedding tux?”  
The two went silent for a moment, considering their options. 

“Middle door?”

“Middle door.”

Richie reaches for the handle of the ‘Scary’ door, Eddie pulls the iron fence post from his belt loop, ready to defend them from whatever was behind the door. Eddie nods gravely and Richie turns the nob, pausing for a moment as if waiting for something to come bursting out. When nothing happens he wrenches the door open and sprints back to Eddie’s side. Eddie raises the fence post high above his head. Nothing emerges from the darkness in the doorframe for a moment and the two men find themselves relaxing. 

“Okay, apparently the dark is scary”, Richie jokes. Eddie laughs uneasily, lowering his weapon. 

“Rich? Baby is that you?”, a male voice calls out from the darkness.  
Eddie turns to question Richie, but the comedian’s face has drained of all blood, he’s sheet white and stiff with fear. Eddie reaches out to touch him, but Richie flinches away violently, shaking his head at Eddie with a wide-eyed, terrified expression. 

“Richie?”, Eddie asked.

“Who the fuck is this slut?”, the voice calls again.  
Eddie looks back towards the door to see a man standing there. Tall, broad and well-groomed, wearing an expensive looking suit. His face was the picture of cold fury, directed entirely at Richie. Eddie is shocked to see the Trashmouth shaking and silent, eyes directed at the ground. The man slams his fist into the door-frame and Richie jumps harshly, hands flinching up to cover his face for a second. 

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Rich”

Richie’s eyes snap up automatically to meet the newcomers. 

“S-sorry Donny”

“It’s okay, Baby. But I asked you a question”, he prompts in a sickly sweet tone.  
Richie looks confused for a second, then panics as he realises he can’t remember the question.

“I’m sorry. I… I d-didn’t-”

“Do you need me to repeat myself?”

Richie nods slightly. 

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Rich.”

“I know. I’m sorry”

Donny reaches out towards him and Richie barely manages to suppress a flinch. The other man runs a gentle hand through Richie’s hair. Richie closes his eyes and a smile ghosts across his lips. Then the hand tightens and Richie’s eyes snap open again as he hisses out a pained breath. 

“I asked, who. Is. This. Slut”, he uses his grip on Richie’s hair to force him to look at Eddie. Richie’s eyes are filled with tears as he looks apologetically at his oldest friend. Eddie looks disgusted, just like Richie always feared he would. He closes his eyes in defeat. 

“That’s Eddie”, he whimpers.

“Eddie… I thought you were coming back here to see your old friends?”, Donny asks with false confusion.

“I am-”

“Don’t lie to me, Richard. I don’t see anyone else around here. Just you and another man, alone.”, Donny snarls viciously. Richie’s eyes spring open, wide with panic. 

“No, no, no. Donny it’s not like that, I swear.”, he babbles.

The hand in Richie’s hair tightens again and shakes him harshly enough that his knees buckle and he hits the ground. Donny doesn’t release him, just drags him towards the open door. Richie’s feet are scrambling to find purchase on the rocky ground, but he stays silent in a way that only comes with routine. Eddie sees his panicked face, remembers the bruises Richie had written off with a BDSM joke at the Jade of the Orient restaurant, but it takes a flash of yellow in Donny’s eyes for Eddie to snap out of his stupor.  
He lunges forward and grabs the front of Richie’s shirt with one hand. 

“Let him go! Richie! It’s not real!”, Eddie tries desperately to break through to his friend.

Richie’s tearstained face tilts up towards him, eyes foggy with panic, not understanding. 

“Richie, it’s the clown. How the fuck would your boyfriend, or whatever this asshole is, be in a cave a fucking half mile under Derry?!”, Eddie implores Richie to understand what’s happening.

Richie’s eyes clear in an instant and he starts thrashing in Donny’s grip, screaming, but the man doesn’t let go. He just keeps dragging Richie through the door. Richie’s head and shoulders are quickly overcome by the darkness. 

Eddie lets him go. 

Eddie raises the iron fence post and jabs it into the darkness, believing that it’ll strike true, because it has to. He hears a wet thump and a horrific screech, feels the pointy end of the post sink into something soft and quickly yanks it out again. He lunges down, dragging Richie back through the door by his ankles. Richie scrambles away from the door while Eddie slams it shut, turns the lock on the knob and uses the fence post to bash the doorknob until it’s unusable. The thing on the other side thumps on the door a few times before going quiet. The silence lasts for a split second before Richie breaks down into awful, rasping sobs. Eddie, alarmed, moves to check him over for injuries. Richie has curled himself into a tight ball, knees drawn up to his chest, head tucked between then and hands over his head. Eddie realises with a wave of nausea that he’s making himself as small of a target as possible. Eddie kneels beside him and places a hand on his shoulder, shushing him gently when he jumps. 

“Hey, hey Richie, it’s okay. It’s just me”

Richie shakes his head, choking out apologies between his sobs. 

“Richie! You have nothing to apologise for, but I need to make sure he didn’t hurt you. 

Richie gulps in some air and barks out a harsh laugh. He finally raises his face up to look at Eddie. There are scratch marks leading up his face and into his hair, bleeding sluggishly. Eddie would be worried if they didn’t look so shallow. What worries Eddie is Richie’s eyes, usually alive and expressive, now dull and lifeless, resigned to his fate. 

“All he ever does is hurt me, Eds”.

Eddie lets out a wounded sound and pulls Richie into his arms, ignoring how the other man tenses up for a second before melting into the embrace. He holds him tightly for a moment before he hears Beverly’s scream echoing around the cavern. He lets go and pushes Richie away to look him in the eyes.

“Richie, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, but we need to get back out there. Our friends need us” 

Richie nods stiffly, wipes his eyes and gathers himself. It’s almost eerie for Eddie to see the Trashmouth persona slip back on, covering up all traces of the vulnerable, damaged man who had just been there. Richie grins at him. 

“Fuck yeah. Let’s go fuck up this sloppy bitch”.


End file.
